Gil-Galad was sitting in his throne room as Elenluin entered, his hair and clothes still covered with dust from the long road.
"Aranya" he bowed in front of the king, as custom and politeness required. But before his knee could touch the ground, a hand took his and raised him again into a warm embrace.
"I'm glad you're home brother" he heard the whisper in his ear.
He weakly nodded, not knowing how to start. "Do you have any plans tonight Ereinion?"
In earlier times, the High King would have carelessly answered that yes, he had some banquet of another, for the long-awaited Numenorean men had finally arrived. But recently he had learned, the hard way, on how few times his brother actually asked him something, so he did not.
"I might have, but not anymore, do you want to come to my quarters little one?"
Elenluin smirked and playfully gave a punch to the shoulder of his king, "Don't call me that, old man, but yes, I would very much like to talk to you tonight, if it is not too much of a disturbance of your obligations."
Gil-Galad shook his head, he saw well enough how the would-be smile that his foster brother gave him did not reach his eyes, and wondered, what it was he had to tell him. "Nothing important, refresh yourself Elenluin, I'm done here and will do the same, I'll ask them to bring us diner in my private dining rooms. Anything particular you would like?"
"No, no, don't do anything special for me, I'll just pass by for dinner then."
As he walked to his own rooms, Elenluin saw Gwillion approaching from the other side, obviously warned by one or another servant that he was back.
"Sir, I'm glad to see you back! I have already let your packs be brought to your room, and…"
"Thank you Gwillion," Elenluin interrupted him quietly but decidedly "I would only like you to help me apply the balm to my back. The rest of the evening I will spend with the King."
Gwillion nodded, his face slightly flushed, knowing by now that his master did not appreciate too much talking. As they entered the rooms, it seemed that the servant had understood his master's needs better than the latter would have thought, for a tub with warm water was waiting to clean the dust away. After helping him out of his mail, Gwillion left him to himself, and as he unwrapped again the leather straps that covered his arms, he knew why he was seeing his brother later that evening.
One by one, the straps undone, one by one, the scars uncovered. As he lowered himself in the warm water, he felt the sting on his arms. He closed his eyes, shutting out the world for a while, focusing only on the sensation of prickling skin. As he opened them again, he rose, stepped out and took one of the towels.
Gwillion reentered with the jar with the balm for his back, ready to help. As he sat himself on a wooden bench, the servant started applying the salve. He kept his arms turned down, hidden under the towel, did not think Gwillion saw the state of them, and if he did, he knew that he would keep comments to himself. If there was any person in this world he trusted to keep a secret, it was him.
Sometime after, he walked over to his brother's rooms, dressed only in a long-sleeved tunic and light trousers. As he approached the wing of the King, he met more and more guards and he realized he almost knew them all by name, having had many of them in either his swordsmanship training sessions a long time ago, or in one of his patrols. The king insisted to have men in his guard that had seen real battle, not just the younger sons of the more important families and he seemed to pick them out of his brother's contingents.
He was glad at least that Ereinion had stopped objecting to having them in the palace, he felt more at ease when his king was safe. He saw as well here and there the banners of Numenor, he had heard that men had finally come, and was curious on what help they could bring – for the situation was becoming desperate, with the enemy pressing closer and closer to Lindon and Imladris.
As he approached the heavy wooden doors that closed the King's quarters from the rest of the palace, it seemed that he was expected and they let him in without a question.
Gil Galad saw him enter, dressed in a loose flowing dark blue tunic, dark hair framing an all too white face. He thought that he had grown thinner again, that the tunic had not been so loose, last time he saw him wear it. At the same time he knew he could not stop him from going on patrol, even if it was wearing him out. They quietly had a simple meal, speaking only of the harvest and the weather, as the servants swirled around them with plates and drinks. Soon enough they were done and Ereinion knew they had both not eaten much, other things occupying their minds. So they took their glasses and the carafe of wine and withdrew to his small sitting room leaving all servants and guards behind, finally getting some privacy.
Pouring in another glass, Gil-Galad looked pensively at his brother. Doubting between asking what the matter was and quietly waiting until the other would start talking.
As Elenluin saw a book on the coffee table, he picked it up and started flipping through. Maps of the east were visible, but his eyes did not see. His heart was racing, how could he talk about this, how could he start, he did not think it such a good idea anymore, he should just shut up and go to his rooms.